Hello, January 2010. This video blog—and the performances to come out of it—is a way of charting time. Time as it folds and unfolds, layering past-present-future at every instant. Time outside and inside. Passing but leaving traces. At once oceanic (endless, broad) and a ship navigating the ocean (singular, directed). Multiplicity (of lives, experiences, and eras piled all together) and singularity (one point of view, one ship). Here and gone. Here and gone. Here gone. I flail at an adequate metaphor. I give up. Another way to put it: I am approaching 60 years on the planet. I still traverse my 50s, but most definitely on the downward slide or upward swoop towards the next decade. Some of my art heroes, the enfant terribles of another decade, are well settled (unsettled) into their 70s. Wow and wow.
Chart and diary, this vlog also comprises an experiment in consciousness raising, a look at the ratios among art-making & money & time . A friend once asked a well known contemporary choreographer how much it would be to commission a solo: $1000 a minute was the answer. I am asking for $25 to $250 to incorporate the raw material in any one of the video clips of here into a piece to be created in 2011.
It’s a little embarrassing that I am not asking for more. It’s embarrassing that I am asking at all. That’s what life is like for me now. A sense of doubt and certainty at once. Doubled and tripled potentialities at every juncture. What might have been and what might be hover over us, shadowing and adding depth to each moment of dancing and living. Right now that means leaving the computer to transform parsnips and carrots and onions and spices into soup. While I cook, I will be meditating upon a performance I will do.
Hello, March I keep refining and altering and polishing the above statement and I keep refining and altering (without much polishing) how I will go about using this material next year. It is a great big pool of possibility in which I catch glimpses of specific moments/structures/strategies.
I am staying tuned.
Hello, September Mortality. Change. Perception and its relationship to thinking. The tension between the finite physical/energetic container of the body and the expansiveness of the temporal horizons within and without. These are the themes of the month.
Hello, DecemberThis year is almost over. I’ve accumulated a lot of movement material here, most of which will only live on as digital or visual information. But some of it will find its way into the rehearsal process and into performance. Here’s how I described it in a recent grant application: Choreography has always been an experimental arena in which I pit desire for witnessing my own movement dispersed on other bodies against my respect for, and curiosity about, each performer’s individuality and integrity. Thus my cast of faux siblings will also encounter already-made movement existing as a video diary. Throughout 2010, I have been posting clips of both set and improvised movement [online] as a way of charting the passage of my particular dancing body through the current calendar year. How this material translates on other dancers will vary, depending on their desires and mine, and could include imitation, re-creation, a response to the timing or the energy of the original, etc. And more “grantese” … [the] structuring, imagery and movement constitute attempts to come to terms with the multiple and vast fluid landscapes of time, memory and experience that exist in each human mind—especially when contrasted with the more confined limits of the self as a physical entity. How big it is in there! What a finite container our body seems! … [it] will be created by churning up–then filtering and shaping–movement, text, visuals and sound that tease out the tensions between the body as a nominally finite and mortal container and the multi-layered expanses of time, lived experience and future hopes within each individual–all of it jostling with the self’s flickering focus on the present moment.
We install at The Art Gym in April as part of Dance: before, after, during. Perform at the opening. An honor!
I do a series of solo movement studies towards A head of time dedicated to my much loved and missed sister Kathy Austin (1956-2011) & her son Connor Auslund (1992-2011). Love.